Shot through the Dark
by Artemis is Awesomeness
Summary: After the destruction of the Glades, many lives were left in shatters. Oliver is left to hopelessly defend a city that has much bigger problems than corrupt businessmen, and he knows it. It's just another nightly routine that goes a bit haywire that changes things quite a bit for our vigilante. Rated T for obvious reasons of violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. It's been a while since my last fanfiction, but I've decided to write an actual story this time, rather than a oneshot. So, obviously, this is a crossover between Young Justice and Arrow, though it will be set in Arrow. I don't know how much the team will come into play yet, but Artemis is definitely going to be a major character of the story, as will Oliver of course. If you can't tell, it's putting Artemis into Arrow, primarily. I've been thinking of this idea for a while (Hell, I even started an rp blog as Artemis set in the Arrow verse because my mind was racing too much to contain), but not everything is strictly though through yet so things will be developed as we go along.**

**Also note, I started this right at the end of Season 1. I will eventually catch up to Season 2, but not for a few chapters at least.**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**I do not own Arrow or Young Justice.**

* * *

It had been a week since half of the Glades was destroyed. A week since Malcolm Merlyn was killed after the Hood discovered and attempted to stop his plans. A week since countless had died because of him, including his own son.

They say time heals all wounds, but no amount of time seemed to help besides the recovery efforts taking place. Cranes, bulldozers, any construction worker that could be found were called from all over the city to help.

None of that truly mattered to Oliver Queen, though. For months, he had been trying to help the city by finding the corrupt and showing them how they had failed his city. And now, he was the one who failed. He failed the city, he failed his friends, and he failed himself.

Oliver Queen, better known as the Hood, was the son of a billionaire and had few cares in the world. He had a girlfriend, a best friend, and he went to clubs almost every night. That was until five years ago. While on their yacht, Robert and Oliver Queen (along with the rest of their crew) were caught in a terrible storm. When the boat went down, Oliver, Robert and a crewman were the only ones to come out alive. And then Robert had killed the crewman and himself in order to let Oliver live. That was the single thought getting him through his ordeal on the island. He would make his father's faults right, and he would show the other unethical businessmen how they had failed.

"I'm worried about him," Felicity said quietly to Diggle as they watched Oliver train himself. Diggle nodded, his mouth a thin line of worry for his friend. In the past week, Oliver had barely slept. He had been in three modes: Playboy billionaire, the Hood, and training. Anything else hardly mattered to him now.

"He's grieving," Diggle said. "But he doesn't know how." Diggle had seen similar situations back when he was on duty. Soldiers who lost their closest friends in combat that didn't know what to do now.

"I can hear every word you're saying," Oliver grunted as he continued to beat the punching bag. Felicity flinched, feeling slightly guilty.

"But you're not listening, are you?" Diggle countered, crossing his arms. "This isn't healthy, Oliver. You're going to wear yourself down and get yourself killed. Is that what you want for Thea after she just lost her mother? Don't make her lose her brother too." Oliver gave the punching bag one last powerful hit and began to unwrap his hands.

"Felicity," he said, walking to where she was stationed. "Got any leads on the Triad?" Diggle sighed, and Felicity could tell that he was the type to face palm, he would've. Instead, he pinched his nose right between his eyes.

"Um…" Felicity began, turning back to her work to compile her notes. "From what I can tell, they're very angry that you're still alive. I think they were hoping Malcolm would kill you, but that didn't happen. They've hired a new mercenary. Name's Crusher Crock, codename is Sportsmaster, which is kinda lame if you ask me. Apparently he's been climbing his way up the Triad's ladder for a while. You're his final test before he makes it in the big leagues."

"How did you get all that from there?" Diggle asked. Felicity stared at him blankly, and he nodded. "Right. Tech genius."

"How good is Crock?" Oliver asked, ignoring Diggle and Felicity's side conversation.

"Pretty good," Felicity said. "He's not a sniper like Deadshot was. More of a hand-to-hand kind of guy. But other than that, there's not much on him. No idea about his past, family, or anything. The Triad doesn't care about that stuff, I guess, and it's not recorded anywhere else. I can filter for other aliases of his though. "

"Do it," Oliver said, turning to leave.

"Oliver," Felicity said. He stopped and turned to face her. "Maybe you should listen to Diggle. He's got a point. If you keep overworking yourself-"

"I'm fine. Really, Felicity," Oliver said, giving her a reassuring smile before leaving. Felicity watched him leave and then turned to Diggle.

"He's not fine, is he?" she asked. Diggle shook his head, and she sighed before going back to her work.

* * *

Oliver shut the door quietly as he entered his house. After his mother had been arrested, Walter had moved back into the Queen household, claiming that the divorce papers had yet to be signed so he was still Thea and Oliver's legal guardian. Oliver was actually extremely grateful for Walter's presence in the house. Thea had begun to spend so much time with her boyfriend and Oliver at 'the club' that without Walter, the house would be empty. Plus he noticed how Thea felt and was always there for her in the way that Oliver couldn't be, especially after his time on Lian Yu.

He knew that he should take Diggle and Felicity's advice and get some rest. But he couldn't. Mentally, physically, emotionally – whatever level it was on, Oliver was unable to relax. He kept thinking that if he had only trained harder, he would have been able to stop Merlyn sooner and save Tommy. Hell, he might have even figured out beforehand that Merlyn had a two detonators instead of one.

So now he was dedicating himself to his work. He wasn't only focused on the Hood – billionaire playboys had to keep up appearances, no matter what may have been occurring around them. Running the club had taken a good amount of his time and given him a good excuse to not be in the spotlight as much as he normally was. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he could feel the things he did drain him every day.

"Ollie," a voice said. He looked up to see Thea, still in pajamas, leaning against the balcony with her arms crossed. "Where've you been?"

"Speedy," he said, greeting her with her nickname. But hey, she started it. "I thought you were at Roy's. I was at the club, finishing my business." His lies were smooth, with no reason to doubt his words. In reality, he wasn't lying at all; more like omitting things.

"It's eight in the morning, _Ollie_," Thea said, spitting out his nickname. "I'm not the kind of person to sleep with a guy I've known for a month. But you wouldn't know, would you?" Her insult was more lighthearted now as she got up from her leaning position. "I'm going back to bed. I'll be up later." With that, Thea turned and retreated to her room. By later, he knew she probably meant one or two in the afternoon. After all, to a teenage mind the weekends were for sleeping. Oliver sighed at the difference in their two situations: oversleeping and insomnia. He went to his own room to make himself look presentable for another day in the spotlight at the funeral of his best friend.

* * *

**How was that? It was a bit of an introduction, I know. Not much action, but I promise that will come later. Again, it started off at the end of season 1. **

**It would be much appreciated if you reviewed and gave some constructive criticism~ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, here's the second chapter! I realize that it's been a while since I published the first chapter... wow, about a month. Oops. I'll try to do better, but no promises since exams are this week (wheeee). **

**Speaking of Arrow, anyone watch that midseason finale? Oh hawt damn that episode was cray-cray (alright, I'll stop). **

**Anyways, here's the chapter. Oh, and as a tidbit, most of my chapters will be about 1,000 words. I find it keeps it short enough to not lose attention but long enough to carry a plot and details and stuff. Some will be longer than others, and some shorter. Yeah. Enjoy!**

Oliver looked at himself in the mirror. He fidgeted with his tie, delaying himself as much as possible. He wanted this day to be over already – or better yet, just not happen. He wasn't normally the kind of person to run away from something, but he wanted nothing to do with this funeral.

Felicity had offered to go with him for support, but he turned her down. If they spent too much time together, it would raise suspicions. Diggle had also offered, but Oliver turned him down too. It would easier to maintain a poker face without people reminding him of his failure. If he could prevent Laurel from going, he would. But his… he wasn't quite sure of what Laurel was to him, or he to her. But she wouldn't even listen to Oliver's argument. Tommy and Laurel had dated, and he had died saving her. Of course, she would go.

And she would be the biggest reminder of all. Her sister, her ex-boyfriend. Who else would Oliver take away from her?

Sighing, Oliver left his house and hopped into the back of his car, letting his chauffeur drive him to the funeral. He closed his eyes in an attempt to meditate, but his mind kept flashing back to Tommy's death. He hadn't even had the guts to tell his best friend that he had killed his father.

After a short drive, Oliver was at the funeral. Most of it past in a blur. Reporters were there despite the attempts to keep them out. Oliver gave them answers that were vague enough to satisfy himself and the reporters. Of course, they asked about his mother and her involvement, but he easily dodged the question. He had seen Laurel from across the room several times – along with her father, Detective Lance, whom he was glad to see in one piece – but he hadn't had the courage worked up to talk to her. Crazy – or maybe not – how a playboy who confronted armed killers at night was afraid of a woman.

When he saw that Tommy's casket was relatively alone, Oliver approached cautiously. He looked down into the lifeless face of his friend and felt another pang of regret run through his body. _I'm so, so sorry_ he thought to Tommy. _I'm sorry that I let you die and that I killed your father. _He wanted to do something, to say something. But what could he say? It wasn't like Tommy could hear him anyway.

The time came for Tommy to be lowered into his final resting place. Oliver stood next to the casket as it began to lower. Across from him, he could see Laurel fighting tears but failing miserably. Her father held an arm around her, trying to comfort her. If he had been faster in beating Malcolm, he would have saved Laurel and Tommy. But now they were both gone.

Oliver left the funeral as soon as it was over. Seeing Laurel had been harder than he thought, especially knowing that she should have never had to attend Tommy's funeral. He met Diggle at the car, and his friend seemed to know not to question Oliver on whatever happened at the funeral. Diggle merely sighed as he drove, back to Oliver's club.

* * *

The car ride was short and quiet. Diggle didn't look back, but he knew Oliver needed the alone time. Diggle had watched plenty of his friends die while he was serving his tours, and he knew the affect it had on people. Especially soldiers.

When the car stopped, Oliver didn't even wait for Diggle to get the door for him. He walked swiftly into his club, and down the secret entrance to his base. Felicity was already in the basement, doing God-knows-what on the computer. Oliver was smart, but he wasn't MIT smart. He noticed she was dressed in black, even though she didn't attend the funeral.

"Any updates?" Oliver asked, bending over Felicity's shoulders to see the computer screens. Felicity jumped at Oliver's sudden appearance behind her.

"You really need a bell," she said, her breathing slightly quicker from the surprise. Oliver didn't even bother to smirk at her. After a long day of being Oliver Queen, he needed to go out for a while as the Hood. Felicity turned back to the computer and began explaining her newest results. "Birth name is Lawrence Crock, other known aliases are Crusher Crock, Sportsmaster, Larry Johnson, though the last is really just for getting through security points. His wife's in jail, but she was supposedly his partner. There is speculation he's also training some other people, though who it is I can't find."

Felicity spun around in her chair, feeling somewhat childish, to look at Oliver and gauge his reaction. "Oh!" she said. "And he likes to fight people with various sports related items–"

"Think he's overcompensating for something?" Diggle asked, chuckling. He quickly shut up after Oliver gave him a pointed glare.

"These trainees," Oliver continued. "Should they be any trouble?"

"Probably not," Felicity commented, turning back to her computer. "There isn't too much about them, though. I'd keep an eye out." She turned back around to see Oliver grabbing his Hood ensemble from the container it was stored in.

"Oliver, it's four in the afternoon. Way too early for you to go out," Diggle said, holding a hand to stop Oliver.

"Besides! Your best friend was just buried after he died in that earthquake–" Felicity stopped at the look Oliver gave her. It could only be described as a combination between hopelessness and anger. "I'll shut up now."

"What you need to do," Diggle said, taking the attention away from Felicity. "Is go home. Get some rest. Grieve. You can go off and fight Crock tonight until your heart's content. But now is not the time."

Oliver sighed, looking back at his friend. "You're right," he admitted, setting down the clothes.

"Did he just admit you were right?" Felicity asked Diggle, earning herself al pointed glare from Oliver. Diggle in turned smirked at Felicity at their friend's expense.

"You two need to grow up," Oliver said, turning his back to them setting his bow back in its display case.

"And you," Diggle began, wrapping an arm around Oliver's shoulder. "Need to loosen up."

**Was that any good? Review are appreciated! I'm trying to give my own version of what happened right after the quake and such. The funeral wasn't too action-packed, but I felt it needed some closure there. **

**Also, I am looking for a beta-reader if anyone would be interested in doing such a thing. I know my grammar probably isn't spotless (since I write generally how I talk) and some things could definitely be better-worded, soo... yeah, if you're up for it let me know.**

**Have a lovely day dearies!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, look! A quick update! Wow! Just in time for Christmas! That's my present to you. A really awesome chapter for Christmas (or whatever you celebrate, or if it's your birthday, or whatever).**

**This chapter is decently long for me, so that's a bonus. Plus, I think you'll all like this chapter. Pretty good action, y'know? Alright, I'll let you get along to the chapter. **

**I don't own Arrow or Young Justice.**

* * *

It was now two in the morning. Oliver had been doing surveillance along the rooftops, keeping an eye out for any troubles from Crock or the Triad. Felicity was back at the basement, keeping an eye on surveillance cameras for anything that could help him out with Diggle (after Oliver made him stay behind).

So far, the night was quiet. He had seen just minor crimes – a stolen purse here, graffiti there – none of which were his problems. The cops could deal with those idiots. He needed to focus on bigger things that could end up in more deaths. Especially after the Undertaking happened on his watch.

"Anything?" he asked Felicity through their comm unit. He could almost hear her purse her lips as she got ready to respond.

"Nothing. It's being unusually quiet tonight, isn't it?" she asked. Oliver had to agree. It was never this quiet, not in Starling City and especially not where the Glades met the docks. That area was a breeding ground for crime. "What if he knew you were coming? Packed up and left?"

"There's no way Crock could have known," Oliver countered. "Not unless he can see the future. I'm going to go into a few of these buildings, look around. See if I can find anything that could help me find him."

"What about the warehouse, two buildings to the east?" Diggle asked. "Strategically, it's a great building for defense, hiding… everything that Crock could need right now." Oliver turned, surveying the building.

"I'll check it out," he said, dropping the conversation.

It took no time at all for the Hood to reach the warehouse in question. He peered in a window, seeing nothing that would arouse his suspicions. Which was to be expected, unless Crock was a bigger idiot than he thought. Oliver found an unlocked door and snuck in, trying to stay as stealthy as possible – which was easy for a man who spent five years surviving on an island. Suddenly, he heard a scream.

The scream sounded like it came from a girl – it was too shrill to be a man, or even a small boy. Not thinking, Oliver raced towards where it was going. If there was someone in trouble, he had to help. Especially if the Triad had gotten ahold of the girl.

Oliver was sprinting through what appeared to be the room where the factory workers spent most of their time. There were bits and pieces of belongings left behind for years after the warehouse was abandoned. It was a wide space, with some walkways high up that supervisors would use to watch the workers. And, he realized, the perfect place for a trap.

He ran to a door, pushing on it with all his might. It wouldn't give. Just as he loaded an arrow to destroy the door, he heard a voice behind him.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Hood. I feel honored to be considered a target of yours," a deep, old voice said. Oliver turned around, keeping the arrow notched and aiming at the man. He seemed old, maybe in his late forties-early fifties. He was wearing a mask that resembled a hockey mask, and wore enough padding to be considered armor but not so much as he couldn't move. "Although, you were gullible enough to fall for the trap. Tut tut."

"Lawrence Crock," Oliver said, glaring at him under the hood. "You have –"

"Failed this city," the man mocked. "So you say. But in reality, what have you been doing? Going around, shooting people with your idiotic arrows? Is that any better than what I do?"

"I don't kill innocents. Just men like you," Oliver protested, his voice gravelly and deep. He took a step towards Sportsmaster, but an arrow landed at his feet. He stopped and looked up for the source on the rigged walkway, aiming his bow at… a young teenage girl. Confusion set in, but he didn't let it show. Sportsmaster laughed.

"What? Scared to shoot a girl?" he asked. "Typical. You vigilante types let too many rules come into play. Us, however? We don't."

As if on cue, the girl let loose another arrow at Oliver. He was able to dodge, but the distraction was made. Sportsmaster charged in, hitting Oliver with a hook to his face. Oliver felt the blow connect, but he used the momentum to spin around and kick Crock back. Arrows flew at Oliver, but he couldn't worry about them. Instead, if he could just get to a spot she couldn't aim at, he could deal with Crock and then the girl. It was obvious that she had been the one who screamed, luring him here. _Why_ would a girl even be working with him? Unless…

Oliver didn't have time to think. Sportsmaster's punches were too fast, too many for Oliver to worry about why the girl was working for Sportsmaster. Sportsmaster pinned Oliver flat on his stomach.

"Give up, Hood. You're no match," he said. Oliver grunted before throwing him off. Sportsmaster was quickly up, but Oliver had his hands on a pipe. He brought it down on his head, as hard as he could. Sportsmaster grunted, his vision hazy as he fell to the floor. "Get him!" he shouted, voice already going out. Oliver assumed he was talking to the girl. Knowing Crock was incapable of pursuit for at least a moment, Oliver launched an arrow at the door, blowing it up and creating an escape. The plan was going to hell, and he had to regroup.

Running through the building, he kept his path wild and untraceable while ignoring the shouts from Felicity and Diggle in his ears. "A little busy," he grunted back to them. They shut up, trying to help him find a way out.

"Door on your left. It leads to a stairwell that leads to the roof," Felicity chirped in his ear. Oliver nodded, before remembering she couldn't see him, just the floor plan. Wordlessly, Oliver ran up the stairwell and onto the roof.

"Alright, I'm out. I'll be back there at –" Oliver was interrupted by a kick to the stomach. Looking up, he saw the girl from before. Now that she was done from the rafters, he could get a good look at her. She had less padding than Sportsmaster to account for her agility. The girl's blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Her clothes were black with oranges throughout, along with a mask that covered her upper face with a pattern around her left eye.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked her. "Why are you working with Sportsmaster?" The girl stared at him through her mask for a moment before getting into a fight stance.

"It's me or you," she said simply. Oliver understood. She wanted a fight. Oliver didn't necessarily _want_ to fight a teenage girl, but he knew it would be the quickest escape. He waited for her to charge, expecting the fight to be quick. And while she did charge at him, similar to Sportsmaster, she wasn't as much of an easy target as Oliver thought. Oliver was used to fighting force-on-force, but the girl played a game of catch with Oliver. He went to hit her, but she had slipped beneath his legs and already swept his legs out from under him.

He felt a sharp sting as a blade cut into his leg as she went between his legs, and he looked at her in confusion as he fell. _Where the hell had that knife come from? _Then again, why was he surprised?

Oliver was quickly back up and aimed his bow at her, already moving away to get enough distance. "Alright. The game's over," he told her. She smirked at him, before charging at him again. He let the arrow go, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Even he had his limits, although he had to let go of them now.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the girl dodged the arrow effortlessly, throwing the knife that had earlier cut into his leg at him. He easily dodged the knife, but before Oliver could blink, she had knocked him off his feet. As if in slow motion, he could feel himself falling backwards, unprepared for the sudden blow. As he landed hard on his back, he felt the girl pin him down and the hood fall back.

The girl's fist was raised, ready to punch Oliver to unconsciousness, but then she stopped as his identity was revealed. "Oliver Queen?" she asked, disbelief filling her voice. He stared at her in shock, and for once Felicity and Diggle were silent. Before Oliver could say anything, Sportsmaster opened the door they had exited from. The girl was the only thing blocking his identity from his view.

"Good job, baby girl," Sportsmaster said. Oliver widened his eyes slightly, but the girl's never left his. He saw her gaze steel slightly as he spoke. "Finish the job. And then we'll send his body first to the triad, and then whatever family and friends he might have. Do it." Her hands clenched into fists, and Oliver wondered what was going to happen. He knew that he wouldn't die; the only reason Oliver was still pinned was first shock, and then curiosity.

The girl looked at him through her mask. She gave a microscopic nod to Oliver, and quickly pulled his hood back up and over his face. Oliver flipped her off of him, not bothering to be gentle, and jumped off the roof, landing on a car. He heard pure rage from up on the rooftop coming from Sportsmaster. But he couldn't worry about that now. The girl had to know what she was doing when she helped him.

That was the oddest part.

Sportsmaster's daughter betrayed him.

* * *

**Dun dun DUUNNNNNN**

**I liked that chapter. It was fun to write it, and I hope it was fun to read it. And if you're confused about the ending, don't worry. Artemis' motives will be revealed eventually, so enjoy the wait. **

**As always, reviews will be much appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! Sorry about how late this chapter turned out to be. Life hit pretty hard over the holidays, and then once I actually started this I realized I was really out of character so I had to start over. Even some spots may seem somewhat OOC but I just really wanted to get this out to y'all. **

**Alright, I realize I haven't really been clear in this. Let me just say that the Artemis I'm using here is not the same as in Young Justice, just as in Young Justice she is not the same as she was in the comics. I've taken the liberty of making a few changes as I see fit, simply from what I'd assume would happen from growing up in a slightly different environment than she did in YJ. And um... yeah, if I think of more things to clear up I will but currently I'm having a mind fart SO ENJOY!**

**I don't own Arrow or Young Justice**

* * *

"So what you're saying is, some strange girl who started the night by shooting her own arrows at you - helping Sportsmaster - took you down, saw that you're _Oliver Queen_ and decided to let you run away?" Diggle asked. He had been leaning on the table, not even meeting Oliver's eyes. Felicity sat in her chair, looking down. In fact, no one had looked at the other since Oliver had told them of what had happened.

Oliver couldn't blame them. He had screwed up, majorly. The girl _knew _who he was. She could easily turn him in. And if Oliver was prosecuted, the police could easily trace to Diggle and Felicity. In fact, Detective Lance already knew Felicity was involved. If they were caught, despite the good they'd been doing, they would no doubt go to jail for the rest of their lives. Oliver might even get the death penalty with the number of people he's killed, plea of insanity or not.

Oliver took a breath. He hadn't even told them of his suspicions. "Not only that," he began.

"Oh, what now?" Diggle snapped. Oliver glared at him before continuing.

"The girl. She was a teenager," he said. "Crock had two daughters, right? I think she was one of them."

"So we're going to jail?" Felicity asked, as though it was a fact. It was hard not to, after that last bit of news had been shared.

"No," Diggle said. "We're going to hell."

"Wait. You're forgetting the part where she helped him escape," Felicity said. "She realized who he was, and then covered for him while he escaped. If she wanted to expose him, or kill him, she would have done it there. If she goes to the police now, she'd be arrested too most likely. She wouldn't risk it…"

"We can't be sure of that," Oliver said.

"Well, if she's one of his daughters, and she betrayed him… what if something happened? You said she's only a girl. Even _we_ can't just let him do whatever he wants with her."

"Felicity, she's as much of a criminal as her father is," Oliver said. "She knew what she was doing. She can handle herself. Crock is still on the loose, and he needs to be caught _before_ the Triad help him recover. And the girl _before_ she tells him who I am."

Felicity turned around in her chair, facing the computers. She was typing away wildly, and neither Oliver nor Diggle could tell what she was doing. After a moment, Oliver was fed up.

"Felicity, what are yo-?"

"Crock. Artemis Crock," Felicity said, spinning back around to face Oliver. On the screen was a mug shot of a girl. _The girl_, he realized. Without her mask, he could clearly make out her attributes. The blond hair was still in a ponytail, although now he could detect a trace of some Asian descent. She glared into the camera, grey eyes unsettling. Oliver realized what Felicity was doing right away. She was trying to make Oliver feel guilty. "Daughter of Lawrence Crock and Paula Nguyen. She's got an older sister, too, who ran away after her mother went to jail."

"Felicity…" he warned.

"I don't think it's too crazy of a guess to say that she didn't have much of a choice in anything," Felicity said. Diggle stayed to the side, seeing who would win the argument. "Besides, she's only 16. There's not much of a different choice for her, especially since we have no idea what Sportsmaster has done an-"

"Felicity!" Oliver interrupted. Felicity paused, pursing her lips at Oliver while she waited for his response. "Enough. I've made up my mind." He looked at the screen, pausing. "Crock's daughter can handle herself." Felicity opened her mouth to protest but closed it as Oliver glared at her again. She realized that that might be the best she could get. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about him going off and killing a girl.

"I'm done talking about this. It's late. Go home, sleep. We can meet up tomorrow night to come up with another plan to take down Sportsmaster. Until then, I don't want to hear one word about him or the girl," Oliver said. He turned and walked out the door, leaving Felicity and Diggle alone in the basement.

Felicity blinked, trying to keep herself from growing too frustrated. She spun around in her chair, not facing Diggle. Diggle noticed and sighed. "Don't worry about her," he said, knowing Felicity's thoughts. She didn't know why, but she had some foreboding feeling that the girl wasn't in good hands. And if Oliver wasn't going to do something, who would?

* * *

_Oliver Queen_, Artemis thought. _The Hood is Oliver Queen._ It was a simple fact, though it seemed like it held the world. She knew he had been suspected of being the Hood before (though everyone believed that to be because of Lance's hatred of him), but somehow he had thrown the blame off of him. That was genius, however he did that.

But now she knew the vigilante's deepest secret. She knew his identity, all because he was too careless, stupid or arrogant to have a mask. But what would she do with it?

She could tell her father. That would appease him, especially after her latest 'failure' at capturing the Hood. It could throw his anger away from her.

Or she could go straight to the Chinese Triad. Tell them the identity, and they would take her in. Her father wouldn't get what he most wanted, probably would be demoted instead. She could take the thing he's been working for. That would be nice for her pride.

She couldn't take his names to the cops. No, that would be idiotic. First, Oliver had already thrown the police off his trail. One tip wouldn't change that. And how could she explain how she discovered his identity without revealing her crimes?

Or she could do nothing. She could keep the secret, tell neither the Triad nor her dad. She'd be helping the person she trained to beat. And maybe that could be the best form of rebellion she could do. Neither the Triad nor her father would get what they want.

Her door whirled open before she could make a decision. In its frame, she could see her father. After that night, he had been too angry to even reprimand her. Now, though. Now she knew she was in for it.

He strolled into her room, almost too nonchalant. She stayed wary, watching as he sat down on the bed opposite of her. Her sister's bed. He stayed there, letting the tension settle into the room.

Oh yeah, she was in deep shit.

"What happened last night?" Lawrence asked. His voice was casual, as if they were discussing a baseball game.

"You know what happened," Artemis said, avoiding the answer.

"And you know what I'm asking," Lawrence countered. He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at her. "Well?"

"He over-powered me," Artemis lied. "I couldn't help it." Her dad tutted.

"Don't give me bullshit, baby girl. I saw the two of you on the roof. You had him cornered, pinned on the floor," he said, leaning in closer to Artemis. "Don't. Lie."

"I'm not," she said. By now she knew she wouldn't tell him. She couldn't give him what he wanted. Not now, not ever. "He distracted me, and managed to escape." She didn't even see the punch coming, rather feeling a sudden impact across her cheek, knocking her off of the bed. She looked up at her dad, disbelief and anger in her eyes. "I'm not lying!" Lawrence picked her up by the scruff of her shirt, Artemis' feet barely touching the floor.

"Twenty-four hours," he said. His breath was hot on her face, and she had to force herself not to gag from the smell. "Prove yourself, or I can't guarantee what happens." With that he threw her down, not bothering to be gentle. He began to walk out of the door before saying, "Don't bother running, either." The door slammed shut.

Artemis sat there on the floor. Triad or no one. Somehow, she doubted the Triad would help her. Her father wasn't an option either. So she would keep the secret. There, one problem was sorted out. The next was what to do.

Both she and her father knew there was no way for Artemis to 'prove' herself. Anything she did wouldn't be good enough. She knew her options, and they were both bleak. Stay and hope she lived, or leave and hope she'd survive. She looked over at her sister's bed. _If Jade could do it, so can I_. _I can make it if I run._

* * *

**Alrighty then! How was that? Artemis' motives were _somewhat_ explained, and I'll let that sink in for a bit. The next chapter will begin at the start-ish of Season 2, just after Sara came back and Sin was in the hospital. It'll be a lot shorter than these two previous chapters have been because I want to get it out quick. I've got all the way through Chapter 6 planned out, from there it's a crapshoot of what might happen. **

**Thanks for reading!**


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